ഒരു കുട്ടികാലം

സ്വപ്നങ്ങളുടെ കയ്കോര്‍ത്തു പിടിച്ച ഒരു കുട്ടികാലം..

കുഞ്ഞു കാലുകള്‍ക്ക്  പാദുകം നല്‍കിയ പുല്‍ത്തകിടികള്‍..

മറവിയുടെ മൂടല്‍ മഞ്ഞു നീക്കി പിന്നിലേക്ക്‌ നടന്നിറങ്ങുമ്പോള്‍..

നനുത്ത പുല്‍ വിരിച്ച ആ  നാട്ടു വഴിയുടെ ഓര്‍മ്മകള്‍ ഉണ്ട് ഇന്നും..

കാലം മഞ്ഞും മഴയും വീഴ്ത്തി ഓര്‍മ്മകളുടെ  പിന്നാംപുരതെക്ക്     

എടുതെരിയപെട്ട ഒരു പാവം കുട്ടികാലവും..

മഞ്ഞിന്റെ മറ നീക്കി ചങ്കില്‍ കൈ ചേര്‍ത്ത് നടക്കുമ്പോള്‍ കേള്‍ക്കാം

അധികം ദൂരെയോന്നുമല്ലാതെ..


പൂവിളിയും,പൂകുടയും കയ്യിലേന്തിയ 

ചന്തമുള്ള ഒരു കുട്ടിക്കാലത്തിന്റെ മര്‍മ്മരം..

 കുഞ്ഞു കൂടുകാരിയുടെ പാവാട തുമ്പിലെ

കോന്തന്‍ പുല്ലുകള്‍ പറിച്ചെടുത്ത നിഷ്കളങ്കതയും ...

പകരം അവള്‍  പറിച്ചു എടുത്ത തുംബപൂവിന്റെ പകുതി വാഗ്ദാനം ചെയ്ത 

വിശുദ്ധ ബാല്യത്തിന്റെ നൈര്‍മല്യവും ..

ഒരു ചിതലരിച്ച പുസ്തകതാളില്‍ നിറക്കൂട് തീര്‍ക്കുന്ന ഓര്‍മ്മകള്‍ പോലെ ...

ഇന്ന് വരണ്ടുണങ്ങിയ നാട്ടിടവഴിയില്‍ , പാവടതുംബുകള്‍ തലോടാറില്ല..

പരസ്പരം പങ്കു വെയ്ക്കുവാന്‍ തുമ്പ പൂക്കളില്ല ...

എന്തിനു ഒപ്പം കൈ പിടിച്ചു ഉര്ച്ചന്കുഴികള്‍  നടന്നിറങ്ങാന്‍..

പഴയ നീയും , ഞാനും പോലും ശേഷിക്കുന്നില്ല ..

എല്ലാം സ്വപ്നങ്ങളോട്‌ ചാഞ്ഞു കിടക്കുന്ന പഴയ ഓര്‍മ്മകള്‍ മാത്രം..

നിറം മങ്ങി പ്രതിഭലനം തരാന്‍ ആകാത്ത ഒരു പഴയ ഓട്ടുവിളക്ക് പോലെ...

ജലചിത്രം

നിനക്ക് അപ്പുറം തോരാ മഴയാണ്..

കാലം തീര്‍ക്കുന്ന പെരും മഴ 

ഈ മാസം തെറ്റിയ പെരും പെയ്ത്തില്‍..

നീയും ഞാനും ഒലിച്ചു ഇറങ്ങുകയാണ് ...

നമ്മിലെ വര്‍ണാഭമായ സ്വപ്‌നങ്ങള്‍ ചോര്‍ന്നു ഒലിക്കും...

തോട്ടുരുമുന്ന ഓരോ ജല കണങ്ങളിലും വര്‍ണം വാരി വിതറി...

നീയും ഞാനും ഇല്ലാതായിട്ടെങ്കിലും ..

ആ വര്‍ണങ്ങള്‍ ഒന്നികട്ടെ....

നാം പിന്നിട്ട വസന്തത്തിന്റെ ഓര്‍മയ്ക്ക് 

വര്‍ണാഭമായ ഒരു ജലചിത്രം എഴുതുവാന്‍..

A jungle book memory

Remember those Sunday evenings with jungle book serial? Mogli, Bagheera, ballu and Sherkhan and the song chinkkani kunnil chinni chilambum chakkara poove..  Most of us grew up watching the beautiful cartoon show- the Jungle book on every Sunday evening and today after so many years it is a déjà vu’ effect when i heard my friends phone ringing the song (‘Jungle Jungle pata chala hai, chaddi pahan ke phool khila hai’ The Hindi version.). This “jungle book” was at 6:30 pm sundays…so after 2 days of holidays, school will be again starting on Monday morning….and “jungle book” was the last enjoyable thing of the weekend. So the end credits of “jungle book” always made me blue coz always after jungle book and a sleep I am waking up to a school day and my maroon cream coloured Uniform..The worst dress I ever worn in my life.. Also the Malaa Dee ad.. The 7 year old kutti who innocently sang the mala Dee garb nirodhan goliya ad song, without knowing what it is all about.. And those days which I started watching my first Hindi serial named Sea Hawks in which Madhavan Played a supporting role… The days which I seriously tried ottakkal thapas (praying in one leg) for blessing from Bhagavan. And at last I dropped it for the fear of his vishwaroopam.. And quite a lot from those golden days… I miss the jungle book, The Raja Rancho serial, Chandrakantha and a lot.

 There is much more magical stuff in life, which takes us back down to the memory lane, like this. If you can throw away all the cares of your day and be one with the moment, you can be a child and experience and enjoy the little things. I wish if i could...

The missing beats!

Once upon a time, a little girl would take long walks with her Achan in the li’l naattuvazhi called keezhillam, where people spoke loudly this crazed-out language called valluvanadan Malayalam. And on the way to nowhere in particular, they’d stop at every small junction (say ‘kavala’) and small shops that sold random yet necessary things (muttai, attani, naranga vellam, soap, sambrani, oil and a lot more)And this little girl probably in frocks or petticoat, would sit on top of the counter and eat a red marble like sweet called ‘thaen madhuram’ while her Achan and the storekeeper discussed the rashtreeyam(politics) about CPI (his own team)and white costumed INC guys..
And then, somewhere in between, the little girl grew out of that naatuvazhi and forgot the valluvanadan malayalam, theshop keeper and of course, the taste of thaen madhuram.
Today when I am siting in this AC cabin, I wish I could go back to that li’l girl whom which the gulf returned achan used to take away with him for the naatukootams and kavala meetings. I would love to sit again in that leg sprained bench in the keezhillam party office where they discussed about world politics. I wish atleast I could take a long walk with my achan holding his fingers with a clean n clear mind..

The sand castle.......

Her feet had set tiny patterns into the wet sand, which were soon washed away by the inevitable rhythm of the rain.
They made way to the sand castle they had built together a day earlier.  
With her plump little hands and plenty of sand, she got to work again.
An hour or two passed before she finished her fifth sand castle of the day.
She rubbed her hands together sending chunks of dirt into the air and finally stood up to admire her work.

“friend” she yelled, her sounds somewhat muffled by the intermittent breaking of waves.

She waved and then ran closer and yelled again.

“Look at my castle, friend. Isn’t it pretty?”
she danced around her castle,
adding little bits of sand here and there to shape the walls or adjust the size.
He watched her , knowing that in a couple of hours the castle would go under water,The big sea is going to take you. So goodbye pretty castle...
close your eyes i have had a surprise for you dear!
“now show me the surprise” she said closing her pretty big eyes.
His face has been twisted into unimaginable shape.
she screamed as he crawled above her..but none listened... and its too much late. The hurt and pain, she even dint know y he is so fierce. oh please friend stop this game,  i m hurt she yelled..
oh god please have mercy, let it end.. and finally he stopped, while she lay there motionless, sprawled on the floor...
he hugged her nudity. For him the last minutes were a part of the game. He hugged her tight and slipped the tweety sticker into her clutched hands. As the waves receded the setting sun, he walked away leaving his small friend behind.
Here was his li’l friend  who played the same old game everyday,who built the castles again and again,
dancing around him... she will never claim for the yellow tweety stickers. she will no more make sand castles.
He closed his eyes. A light ocean-bound breeze enveloped his being and drifted away.

ചിത..

പിതാവിന്റെ ദേഹിക്കു ദേഹത്തില്‍ നിന്ന് മുക്തി നല്‍കി 

സ്വര്‍ഗത്തിലേക്ക് വഴി ഒരുക്കുനത് പുത്ര നിയോഗം 

ഖടികാര ഹൃദയം പോലും ഒരു നിമിഷത്തേക്ക് നിലച്ചു 

കാറ്റിനു  പോലും വേദ മന്ത്രങ്ങളുടെ ഗന്ധം

അന്ത്യ കര്‍മങ്ങള്‍ക്ക് എത്തിയ പുരോഹിതന്‍

പുരാതനമായ ഏതോ കഥയില്‍ നിന്ന് 

അപ്പോള്‍ പുറത്തിറങ്ങിയ കഥാപാത്രത്തെ പോലെ ..

മഞ്ഞു പോലെ ശരീരവും വെളുത്ത താടിയും ഉള്ള വൃദ്ധന്‍,

ചുണ്ടുകളില്‍ മന്ത്രങ്ങളുടെ കാറ്റിളകി

 " അസതോമ സത്ഗമയ..... മൃത്യോമ അമൃതം ഗമയ '' 

വിലാപങ്ങളുടെ വീഥിയില്‍ വിലക്ഷണം പോലെ അത് ഉയര്‍ന്നു കേട്ടു..

വാതിലിന്മേല്‍ കൈകള്‍ ഊന്നി തള്ളി തുറന്നപ്പോള്‍ മനസ്സ് ഒന്ന് പിടഞ്ഞു. മാന്ത്രിക സിനിമകളില്‍ കേള്‍ക്കാറുള്ളത് പോലെ ചീവീടുകളുടെ ശബ്ദം .വവ്വാലുകള്‍ ചിറകടിച്ചു ഉയരുന്ന്ന ശബ്ദം മനസ്സില്‍ ഒരു തേങ്ങല്‍ ഉണര്തിയോ? ... ശ്വാസം എടുക്കാന്‍ വിഷമിക്കുനത് പോലെ ഒരു അവസ്ഥ. വാതില്‍ തുറന്നു അകത്തു കയറുമ്പോള്‍ പഴയ ഓര്‍മകളില്‍ നിറം പിടിച്ചു നിന്നിരുന്ന അകതലത്തിനു പകരം തകര്‍ന്നടിഞ്ഞ ചിതലരിച്ച ഒരു മുറിയാണ് കണ്ടത്.. ഓരോ മൂലകളിലേക്ക് നോക്കുമ്പോഴും ഹൃദയം വല്ലാതെ മിടിക്കുന്നുണ്ടായിരുന്നു .

തുളസി തറയും വിളക്കും വെച്ചിരുന്ന നടുമുട്ടത്തില്‍ അതിന്റെ ശേഷിപ്പ് പോലും ഉണ്ടായിരുന്നില്ല  . പകരം കാട് പിടിച്ചു പാമ്പിനും ചേരയ്കും യഥേഷ്ടം അധിവസിക്കാന്‍ അനാഥമായി  കിടക്കുന്നു.

 വലതു വശത്തെ പൂജാമുറിയില്‍ എലികളും നരിചീരുകളും യഥേഷ്ടം വിഹരിക്കുന്നു. പോളിഞ്ഞടുങ്ങിയ പതയപുരയും അടുക്കള പുറവും  നിറം മങ്ങിയ കുട്ടിക്കാലത്തിന്റെ ഓര്‍മകളിലേക് തോളില്‍ ഏറ്റി  കൊണ്ട് പോകുന്ന പോലെ.. ദാരിദ്ര്യത്തിന്റെയും പക്ഷെ നിറഞ്ഞ സന്തോഷത്തിന്റെയും തിരു ശേഷിപ്പുകള്‍.  

വില്പത്രത്തിന്റെയും എഴുത്ത് കുത്തുകള്‍ ഉള്ള കടലാസിന്റെയും കെട്ടു ചുരുട്ടി പിടിച്ചു പടിപ്പുര ഇറങ്ങുമ്പോള്‍ എവിടെ നിന്നോ ഒരു തേങ്ങല്‍ കേട്ടത് പോലെ. കാടിറങ്ങിയ മുറ്റത്തു നിന്ന് പോളിഞ്ഞിലകിയ മച്ചിലേക്ക് നോക്കുമ്പോള്‍ ദാരിദ്ര്യതാല്‍ മരിച്ച ഏതൊക്കെയോ വൃദ്ധ ബ്രാഹ്മണരുടെ ഏങ്ങലടി കേള്‍ക്കാമായിരുന്നു. തേങ്ങലും സങ്കടവും കുലം കുത്തിയൊഴുകുന്ന പടിപ്പുര ഇറങ്ങുമ്പോള്‍  ചവുട്ടി ഇറങ്ങിയ ഒരു പിടി മണ്ണ് പോലും അവനു സ്വന്തം ആയിരുനില്ല.  .. 

dreams....

I again had killed the dreams
where he has missed me 

and above all want me back.
But,The worst are 

the three seconds after waking,
where dreams are still so clean, clear and true,
that you obviously think it is real.
But it is not.

All I feel is to......

Isn’t it hard to act like someone else?

When all you need is to be yourself,

Why I can’t be just real,

Why I can’t show off what I feel?

I reached my limit of tolerance

The pinnacle of my self control

Of myself indulged pain

The temporary remedy of self denial

I am considered unstable

Yet I overcame everything

I overcame myself and fought on

Yet I felt exhausted and tired...

When I look at me,

What I could see is a pathetic life,

Holding back the tears dripping,

If  I could end it all with a seconds courage

somewhere near the shores of dreaming!!!!!

As the sun leaves to horizon,the mist lifts 

and fresh air feel cleansing my sorrows

i stand here godess of ego,in her command...

the conquest of emotional banks has left me strong..

Somewhere near the shores of dreaming

overlooking the cliffs of humanity

as the sea of thoughts mingle at my feet..

i dream of memories passed by

i inhale the salty scent of love and heartbreaks

But never will i entertain my soul,

a tender moment of self doubt to enter me.

For my past lessons remind me it pays..

submitting myself to this compromise.

Never again to think me less than grand.

I enter the life "enlightened," with my eyes shining...

I see the miracle in just being alive

just another lost soul trying to swim for shore

to search for something more.

journey through the torn up tracks

All because of one dreadful night
Now she sleeps silently in a padded room...
With no memories of that dreadful night..


She might have felt herself slipping away..
In a matter of moments..
where she was laid by a mad man..


the girl of the night will not
recover anymore
to reclaim her self respect..


riding a train on torn up tracks.
she is leaving the world,
and never look back....


What's rushing by ,ohh so fast,
makes you wonder how long,
the pain can last.


she looked for a light,at the end of the tunnel,
but  felt like her head's spinning,
in the middle of the run.


The lightning is flashing,
the rain is pounding down,
feeling dizzy, sure she might have drowned.


Seems  the world is still turning around.
Searching in the darkness,
where that warming ray of sunshine can be found.


Don't know if the ray of light,
will ever come out,
but if it does,grab it, without a doubt...

Rainbows...

“It’s fine,” she muttered again. “Seriously.”


Completely lost  in a pseudo world set precisely between never-before and ever-again, of course, only trying to convince herself... Though, she wasn’t doing a very good job of it...


She turned her eyes far away as she said . She needed then and she needed still, to keep the secret  thoughts that crossed her mind as she said the words... She knew enough that turning away conveyed
as much as, if not more than, her eyes did. It was only instinct, perhaps, to listen primarily to the voice that begged her to do so. It had always been the loudest.




“Fine,” she repeated.


She slowly closed her eyes... 


In the silence that followed, she could imagine letters of “Fine” floating in the air just above her head. Floating there, blocking the moon from view. She let herself think that she had sounded convincing. She would realize soon enough that she is not...


Wordlessly now, she was panicking. She was terrified of being wrong and scared of being right. She was, after all, still very much that same little girl that  never ever colored a sky without a rainbow on the page. Even before the words came, she always had images of what it should be… images of truth. She was holding on to “truth” just then, clenched tightly inside one fist, refusing to let it go. But, she thought, no one needed to know.




She reminded herself not to cry. Not then. Not yet.


After a powerful long pause came the reply, “Yes, but… it’s… not.”


She expelled an enormous sigh and opened her eyes to see if she could let herself cry...




“I know…” she confessed, “I’m just not sure why.”


Remembering back to childhood days, to the empty page… she suddenly recalled that she always, always, drew the rainbow’s outline first, sketching it in black ,white and many other colors,against a purple-blue, cloudy sky. 


Tears came fast and hard when she realized why.


“I... I know why," she finally managed. "Never mind.” 


“Rainbows?”


She nodded, whispering almost inaudibly, "TRUTH". 

The setting of a star....

Girl your  Life is supposed to begin there, not end.
And yet, the life  ended for you. Or rather, you ended it up! As everyone scream your name and fabricate stories about you, I can’t begin to describe what I really feel... There’s nothing more about this!
blank, painful , empty.....

Why did you choose this when there is a lot more for you to think ,do and explore..Were you that  scared? As you stood there on the 22nd floor, ready to jump while the whole world enjoyed the sleep, no one else was awake, knowing what lies at the bottom of the chosen path, as you felt that cold breeze through your long hair the last time, as you looked around the world and saw everyone else living their  lives… were you scared? But If you were, why didn’t you change your mind, how could you do that?
No.... You’re a brave girl; a very brave girl..... courageous enough to jump from the 22nd floor... But where is your courage now? What did u prove? What  did it end and what did it begin???
Nothing at all. It’s all over. ..I wonder what you were thinking the millisecond before you touched that  ground. Did you feel regret? You should have felt... Because the people who love you are still asking the question to themselves.It wasn't worth it. I wish I could tell you this before you took that leap and ended everything that began....

lost in a a crowd...

I am still here,
Not yet totally gone,
Things are unclear,
But I still  remain..

Sometimes I feel like I'm all alone,
Just empty and sick,
Forever on my own dreams shattered ,
Waiting, all unfulfilled....

Broken into many pieces,

 Alone i remain here

While others are still here,

but none to converse .....

Perhaps, if I wait a bit more, 
This strange times will pass,
Things will be reversed  then,
And again I will  be myself ,
With the world I will interact,
The way it used to be.

Wedding Anniversary .............

Golden  light beams pokes through the dusty windows and shines on the marble floor..all twisted and tangled....I drift up to its wide spread and raised my hands to trace each line. Blue walls like a wave of cold water, polished concrete floor, and tall windows everything reminded me of the past days with him..

the framed wedding picture hanging on the wall ....those best days...the day i felt like the luckiest girl in the world...the day he tied the knot.... beautiful were those days.... thoughts drifted down the memory lane ..i searched crazily trying to discover the things were missing, and turn my room upside down searching for them. ... 

my heart was pounding as i picked up the small pink envelope  i dint notice earlier..... It had been lying beside the table all this time. With trembling hands,and mind  i opened  the card.
  
"To my sunshine," it said. "I love you .....more than my life. Try to be happy when you think of me. my Love......"
The memories slid  in front of me, I felt myself caught in a hot dark room I could not escape from....determined not to cry, but the sting was already gathering in my eyes........

my eyes were hot and watery, the drops ran down to stain the cotton pillowcase when I turn over.....Overhead, the fan thumps softly, stirring the air against the ceiling....i was not certain about what made me cry ...but my hands were searching for someone who is far away....

My nose kept on dripping. I wiped it with my night gown sleeve.....

Angel wings

angel  wings... The li'l girl’s  dream was to fly....
She collected a new white feather each day.
To make white wings to her dreamworld....
She was  growing up...with the wings..with the dream..
.
Then one day, she colored them bright red...
 It was surely just a craze....
She wanted her wings to stand out from others....
After all, they were still wings, her own wings..
Huge bright  wings, big enough  to cover her completely....
.
But one day they cruelly pulled them off.....
One by one, the colored  feathers were thrown away...
They considered it uncultural...
Not suiting The standards of society and living....
And even perhaps too pretty....

A trip holding my love into the mist....

as the tears crept slowly down my cheeks;

the great feeling of Love in a Mist,

and the collage of memories,

Blurring at the edges, like a watercolor painting...

Together we leave the whole world behind,

to capture those sweet sunny hours.... 

before the seeing off....

a great ride to the mist....

dedication.......

tensions mounting behind secrets untold
a friendship stretched and ripping at the shore.
the affection we hold for each other no one will understand
and neither will they understand that we hold each others mind.
you've always been there for me and me too...
and now that we face losing each other and I'm at a plan of what to do and what not to.
and the way you treat me is causing my strength to slip
I hope this uncertainty  will be  over soon.
it hurts too much, its a dying bloom.
and this I know, your biggest fear..
i will remain here unchanged for you...
for are we not the cherished and closest of friends?